Radio Silence
by BinarySpark
Summary: After the Aparoid Invasion, both Fox and Wolf try to mend their rivalry and fix the mistakes they made. Neither of them would have expected how they would finally meet face-to-face.


AUTHOR'S NOTES: Good evening, dear reader! This is my first attempt at a serious Starfox fanfic. I had ideas swimming around for a while, but never managed to put them together, until now. After having played all of the games (even the unreleased Star Fox 2!) in the series and having read tons of fics, I decided I would make my own contribution; it's rather experimental.

I hope you enjoy reading it, just as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm still learning. Feedback – including negative, so long as it's constructive – means a lot to me.

This takes place some time after the Aparoid Invasion, before the Anglar Blitz (I hate SF:C, anyway).

Contains strong language, mild violence and blood. You've been warned.

* * *

**RADIO SILENCE**

_"Lord O'Donnell!"_

_The figure in the doorway trembled. Whether it was because of what he was about to say or if it was because of the person he was speaking to, was not certain. The gray-furred wolf at the back of the room didn't even turn around to face the one who came to him with such news. He perked his ears. "What?"_

_"We just lost contact with the supply base on Katina. A d-distress signal was sent out just before the channel went dark."_

_A moment of silence passed, just before the bulky figure exhaled deeply, perhaps too deeply. "Goddamn. Can't you guys ever do something right?"_

_This time Wolf did spin around, finding one of the many apes he employed on the station. This particular one was in charge of the public communication channels. The fearless leader made a gesture with a paw. It caused the officer to promptly stumble backwards and leave the room, the metal door sliding shut behind him with a content whirring._

_Now that he was alone, growling lowly, he leaned on the various panels in front of him, pondering his options, assessing the situation. A large monitor near the ceiling displayed all sorts of blue dots on a background that was a tactical map of the Lylat system, some larger than others. The largest of them was colored a lighter blue. Sargasso Space Station. The dots were scattered all over the screen, some on a planet, some afloat in the endless void. The problem was that Planet Katina was now the only one that did not have one of those little blue dots. Instead, the dot on Katina had a deep crimson red color and was steadily blinking, indicating that all communication connections were severed._

_But why?_

_It could be anything. Perhaps some idiot on the station pissed off another merc band or a mafia family, causing a revenge-ish attack and the sudden loss of the facility. It wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened. Probably not the last either. Perhaps the Cornerian army was finally (finally, dumbheads!) launching an all-out full-scale war on Sargasso, starting by cutting off their various eyes and hands._

_Wolf pressed a series of buttons on the panel he was leaning on. "Panther, Leon. Gear up, party time on Katina." Not waiting for an answer, he closed the communications channel and marched out of the control room._

* * *

Why did everything hurt so much? His eyes weren't even open yet. They didn't need to be either. Nerve synapses did not require eyes to be open for them to function. And function, they did! Blood felt like liquid fire. Things seemed to be a lot better around his right leg. Sarcastically speaking.

With an incredible amount of effort he managed to open one eye. The other never did. It was, after all, a mechanical eye. Yet while it should provide him with the gift of sight, it did not, likely because it was damaged. It just sat there, taking up space in his eye socket. A gentle humming and rumbling vibrated throughout the area. The sound could only come from the outside, though Wolf was far too tired to determine whatever was actually making the noise. Dim light poked at the one good eye, carrying entire volumes of information. He wasn't ready for it. Too much. Synapses fired, blood rushed, his heart rate climbed, and his head felt like it was a watermelon, rigged up and about to burst open. Something solid pressed down against his forehead, forcing it back down on whatever soft surface was supporting his body. Probably a bed. With a groan, several moments, and a headache getting in the way, the helpless wolf managed to identify the object pressing against his forehead as a paw. But _whose_ paw? Voices were all around the place, but attempts at listening failed to even recognize their owner. The words seemed like gibberish, barely audible, as if underwater. Another grumble rolled past his lips. The great Wolf O'Donnell couldn't help but feel himself slipping back into cold darkness again. Cold darkness. Wasn't it cold? Who knew?

* * *

_"You know, we can't stay here forever."_

_"Weren't we waiting for a signal? From the other group?"_

_"We were. Two hours ago. We have to do _something_, surely you understand."_

_"Panther?"_

_"What?"_

_"You think they got caught?"_

_A deep sigh followed. "I don't even — look, we're sort of trapped right here. If we move from behind this rock, they are definitely going to spot us."_

_"Well... this... this was a bad idea."_

_"Yours, not mine."_

_"Shut up."_

* * *

The pilot was awake again. The clouding fog around his mind seemed to be gone. The same went for the terrible aching all over his body: Now it was _just_ his entire right leg. The lupine's furry chest and back hurt quite a lot too, but it was a lot less than before. With a loud snarl and an incredible amount of willpower he ignored his brain, screaming at him to lay down, punishing his decisions with more pain. Somehow he managed to do it, sitting on the bed sheets, albeit panting heavily. While clutching at his stomach with one hand, it was decided a quick inspection of the body was necessary. Two legs – check. Two arms – check. A bushy tail with a split at the end – check. Gray-colored fur – check, aside from the large amount of red stains.

It occurred to Wolf that the only piece of clothing he was wearing was a pair of shorts. Another question presented itself. Where is 'here'? A quick examination of the small room gave a few hints. There was some basic furniture: a chest of drawers and a desk with a chair, along with a small window. All in all, it looked like a guest room of some sort. On the other side of the window glass was pitch black emptiness, dotted with several white and bright yellow specs. No doubt outer space. Or a neat simulation. But that chance was small, so he discarded the possibility. The metal walls were a lighter shade of gray than the dull dark metal found on Sargasso. Conclusion: This was not Sargasso.

It was then that his one good eye spotted a bright crimson red symbol on the center of the room's set of sliding doors: a shape of a running fox with a long mane on its back, almost looking like a wing. The canine flicked his ears and sighed deeply.

The silence of space was broken. Up to that point, there was only the gentle humming of the ship's engines. His gaze moved around the room. Voices penetrated the shut metal door. They were much clearer than before - on a relative scale. If only there hadn't been a solid wall in the way. It took the lupine several seconds to realize that someone was coming. He didn't know what to do. Not like he was able to go anywhere in this state, either. With his muzzle half-open, tongue rolling out, he watched as the sliding metal doors opened.

A familiar vulpine entered the room, carefully gazing at some random parts of the lupine on the bed. Wolf returned a cold, blank stare. Those perked ears picked up a chuckle. "Well, would you look at that. Seems like you were right, ROB."

_"I am *always* right,"_ a monotone voice stated, though there was a hint of intonation. Perhaps even sarcasm. Do robots understand sarcasm? _"Do you want me to alert the others?"_

"Nah. He looks groggy. Don't think he'd be able to handle the pressure just yet."

_"Acknowlegded."_

"I know, thanks."

_"So does Krystal."_

"Yeah, I figured as much," the other interrupted.

It was only then that words managed to find their way up the astonished wolf's mouth. "Y-You... ... I have a n-name, idiot..." The stuttering response only seemed to cause a grin to form on the vulpine's muzzle. Fox wore his traditional track pants, a pair of sturdy boots, and a flight jacket. It was unzipped, though, exposing the orange and white fur beneath it. The crimson red scarf around his neck never seemed to leave him.

Clearly Wolf was having some trouble with staying seated. He just wanted to lay down and sleep some more, but this didn't appear to be the right time. "... What do you want?"

Fox crossed his arms. "Nothing, for now. Just lay down. Don't bother walking. I'm serious." He quirked an eyebrow. The phrase 'for now' unsettled him. Thoughts ran through Wolf's brain.

_'Was he going to turn me in? The Cornerian government was still giving out handsome rewards for my head. Even after everything I have done during the Aparoid Invasion. They wouldn't be alive right now without me! Dicks. No. Fox turning me in. Unlikely. He'd already have done that if it were true. Was he going to kill me? No. Impossible. Otherwise I wouldn't be here either. But what-'_

"By the way, stop peeling at that. You'll make it worse." He looked down at his paw and caught it fumbling away at one of the wounds on his thigh. It seemed to have closed, at least, as the blood around it had dried, but it was far from fully healed. The area had been patched with a bandage, though his fingers had found their way underneath it. Fox was probably right. Messing with it was a bad idea. "But... why are you doing... this?"

The rival (or was he?) simply smiled and shook his head at that. "We'll talk later." And with that he walked off, the metal door sliding back in place behind him. It clicked once. Neat, that meant he was locked in. Since there was little else for the canine to do in the room, and the vulpine had strongly advised against walking (for once he actually took his words seriously), he slowly got down on the bed again. Laying on his back, staring at the ceiling, with one paw resting on his stomach, Wolf fell asleep again.

* * *

_"Wolf, we need to get out of here."_

_"What, why the sudden change of attitude?"_

_"Pick one, fearless leader," Panther purred. "Plasma burns or stab wounds."_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_The response was a black-furred finger pointing up at the sky. Wolf's eyes followed, setting their gaze on a rather strange spot on the horizon. Katina's sky was a deep blue one with milky white clouds dotting the skydome. The planet had always been foggy, but there was something exceptional about that one spot where Panther was pointing at. It was all glittery._

_"Fuck."_

_The lupine read about those once. Katina was, after all, a desert planet, and had a relatively thin atmosphere. If the temperature would rise and the wind was blowing strong enough, sand that was blowing around could be molten by the sheer temperature combined with the strong solar radiation, forming clumps of glass. The result if that process continued: an almost tornado-like swarm of thousands of glass daggers. A so-called glass storm. Not pretty by far._

_"Fuck indeed. Now, what do you say?"_

_His ears drooped and he instinctively held his rifle close."Eh. Let's make a break for it, then."_

* * *

Wolf O'Donnell woke up again, this time with a headache, and sweaty all over. How likely was it that bad dreams caused headaches? Damn it. This entire bed was soaked in sweat. The near-immobilized wolf felt he was a little less so immobilized than before. A little voice in his head told him he had had enough sleep for now. That, combined with the strange lack of pain in his apparently broken right leg, encouraged him to get out of the bed, because it couldn't get any worse anyway. He couldn't have been more wrong.

As soon as he lifted his back from the soft embrace of the blankets he had slept upon and attempted to unceremoniously swing his legs over the side of the bed, the ache marched back in, slaughtering all hope of being able to walk properly and reminding the careless lupine of his situation. Yet that was not enough to stop him. Albeit with slight reluctance, he let himself slide off the bed, trying to put the bulk of his weight on his good leg. That probably was a good call - it felt like that right leg wasn't able to hold anything at all. Rumbling, groaning and letting out quiet yips, Wolf finally (fuckin' finally!) managed to get himself up on his leg(s), heavily leaning on a nearby wall for support. He'd be forced to use the furniture and walls all around the place as a surrogate leg, otherwise he would fall over and God knows what kind of crap that scenario could produce. No way he could hop everywhere on one leg, anyway. As he remembered the metal door had been locked behind him last time, it would probably be a waste of time and energy to try and open it. Instead, he clumsily stumbled his way over to the metal desk on the other side of the small room, leaning against the wall with every single step. The intense urge to howl out in pain, the primal urge to call for help, was suppressed with sheer willpower. Nothing good could come of it. Or at least, that was the most logical conclusion at this point. While pondering that, a small box on the edge of the desk caught his eye. Recognizing it as a digital alarm clock, he smashed his fist on the top, probably using several times the force that would have been necessary to activate it. Green numbers flashed up. 23:10.

What else was there to do in this place? Wolf was getting bored, and simply refused to go back to sleep. If he'd keep telling himself he was perfectly fine for a long enough time, it'd be over. Right? There was nothing else on the desk, aside from a few sheets of blank paper and a pen. Since he wasn't exactly in a poetic mood, it would probably best to leave those alone. That left only one option left. The door. Again, he took several minutes in stumbling over there, almost tripping over his own leg in the process. Damn it, this wasn't the way he imagined he would be spending his final years. 'No, shut up. Don't start talking myself into a depression.' He was busy enough already as it was.

"Wait, what was that?" he frowned, accidentally speaking those words out loud, as his gaze locked on the keypad next to the metal door. Above the buttons was a rectangular light. It was bright green. Unlocked. Why did he fail to see that earlier? As he put his paw on the button that would open the door, he paused. The gentle humming of the fluorescent ceiling lights filled his mind, banishing other thoughts. No, seriously. Think. He was not locked in. Canine instincts helpfully pointed out that this had an approximate one hundred percent chance of being a death trap. Oh well. Nothing to do here anyway.

* * *

_How long had he been running?_

_He was swimming in adrenaline. The storm was approaching incredibly fast — it was already getting foggy. The duo was frantically running around, dodging sniper shots. They were making a dash for the front door. Since they were being shot at, only one conclusion was plausible. The base had been taken. That did raise other questions: then where did Leon go? Did they kill him? Damn, he really had to stop thinking about that. Quite suddenly something shiny tore through his flight suit, ripping at the fabric. Luckily, it was just his side and didn't actually hit him. Shit, shit, shit, shit..._

_"This is going to get nasty..." Panther shouted, causing Wolf to turn his head around to look at the glass storm. Why was it moving so swiftly? And why was it moving perfectly in their direction? That wasn't normal. Not at all. It was like they were being chased by a huge tank, on steroids, armed with rocket launchers, and thrusters on the back driving it forward at boost speed. That was when the lupine made a dreadful mistake: he wasn't looking._

* * *

While the corridor that popped into view as the door slid open shouldn't have surprised him, it actually did. For some reason Wolf was expecting the dark, worn metal hallway outside of his own room on the Sargasso Space Station. The view he was getting instead was a much lighter color of metal. It seemed to look cleaner than Sargasso, too. Not implying his home was dirty, though. It was just... noticeable. As he stepped out into the corridor, his right leg limping behind, he clumsily turned around and stared at the keypad on this side of the door, expecting a small display to be there, stating the room number and its function. It wasn't there. Apparently one doesn't get those on the Great Fox. Well, that would compensate for the lack of cleaning personell on Sargasso.

"Wolf," a soft voice stated behind him.

He shouted something resembling a mix of a growl and loud "gah", tensing up in a split second. Aided by a rush of adrenaline, he spun around to face the source of the sound, almost losing his balance in the process. A blue-furred vixen was standing there. His ears drooped.

"You scared me..."

"Sorry. That was not my intention."

A meek smile formed on my muzzle and he exhaled, his back leaning against the wall. "I know." Though he was trying to act normal and straighten his posture, he knew it wouldn't have any effect. Not with _her_ around.

A moment of silence.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," he sighed.

He could have sworn he saw the beginnings of a smile appear on that vulpine muzzle, right then, right there. An attempt to open his mouth to speak followed, but Krystal interrupted.

"You must have a lot of questions."

All he did to form a response was slowly nodding. It was enough.

"Come with me."

Once again, he opened his mouth, this time to object.

"You're not going back to sleep..." Fuck, she knew. "...nor do you want to speak to the others..." Wait, what? "... yet you want to know what is going on. Am he right?"

Oh, right. The vixen was a psychic. How could he ever forget?

"Let me help you," she added.

He simply nodded again, wondering what else she knew. Did she know what he's thinking right now? Damn, that's creepy. An idea came to Wolf's mind, just to test how far things went. He squeezed his eyes shut and conjured an image of a paw with a raised middle finger, focusing on it with all the might in the world. A deep sigh sounded somewhere ahead of him. Wolf burst into laughter.

They wandered off, down the corridor, while he put a great deal of his physical weight on her. With his arm wrapped around her shoulder, and hers wrapped around his, they walked. Probably to her room. Surprisingly, she seemed to have little to no trouble with practically dragging him along. Perhaps she was stronger than he had initially anticipated. Gods, he felt so pathetic.

* * *

_A sharp yell echoed through the air. Wolf fell over on his stomach and curled up, clutching his right leg. It was bleeding severely, the last bits of plasma fizzling out before disappearing entirely._

_Then, all of a sudden, the snipers stopped firing entirely. They just disappeared, retreating into the base. Probably because of the storm. Damn. They were out there, and if they failed to find shelter soon, it wouldn't end well. Not like it was going nicely right now either._

_"Damn it, Wolf! We don't have time for this!" Panther shouted, making a U-turn as he heard the scream behind him._

_"F-Fuck you! Gah, it hurts!" the lupine whimpered._

_The black-furred feline dropped down on his knees and wrapped his paws around Wolf's bleeding leg and pulled it straight, causing the canine to produce another loud yell. Panther's ears drooped, although Wolf didn't see it, and rumbled deeply. "Oh, my."_

_"How bad... is... it?" Wolf groaned._

_"You probably don't want to know."_

_"I do, silly, otherwise I wouldn't be asking."_

_"Fine. Your fur is seared, parts of your skin have burned away, and by the looks of it, your kneecap has shattered. Probably because of the fall. I don't know about the rest of your leg, but it sure doesn't look good."_

_A short sigh and a rumble followed. Wolf's heart sank. Sure, one screwed-up leg probably wasn't enough to kill him, but then there still was the approaching storm. Which, by the looks of it, was about to set in fully. This was not at all the way he imagined his death. Could this be the end of the great Wolf O'Donnell? Shot at and caught in a damn glass storm? He had always imagined a more... heroic, honorable death. Being blown up in a dogfight, as a sacrifice for the greater good, sounded quite alright. The lupine found himself thinking in circles, a loop which he somehow failed to penetrate. He was feeling all woozy, as if he had gotten drunk again._

_"Lemme see if I can patch this up... you're losing a lot of blood here..."_

_He didn't know what Panther was doing down there, but it sure hurt. For some reason the pain seemed to become less and less with each passing second, up to the point where he felt like he could just stand up and dance around. Full of joy. Joy?_

_"Hey, Wolf! Stay with me!"_

_Thoughts became blurred. Wolf found himself staring blankly at the sky, or what was left of it, anyway. A thick fog was obscuring any form of vision. Black spots appeared on his eyes, slowly growing and spreading, as if someone was dripping ink on them. Who put out the lights? No, seriously?_

_"...Wolf! ... ... ..._

_Even while he didn't realize it, the blood loss was getting to him. A few more moments passed. They felt like several minutes - both to the lupine and to the feline - yet time marched on at normal rate, not giving a damn about what was going on. Words became blurred, just like his thoughts, forming some kind of sticky, incoherent soup. He closed his eyes, all of his senses failing to provide any kind of input. Wolf passed out._

* * *

Vanilla. Even while the door to Krystal's room was still shut, the scent of vanilla poked at his nose. O'Donnell didn't mind at all. It was kinda nice. She put a finger on the keypad and made some kind of swiping motion, not even depressing any of the buttons. The door understood, though, and with a happy whirr it slid open.

"You must have a lot of questions," she stated. The tone of her voice didn't really phrase the sentence as a question. The blue vixen went in her room. Wolf felt obliged to follow. The metal door smoothly slid shut behind him. The smell of vanilla was stronger, obviously, yet soft. It was quite pleasing. A most intriguing sensation, if you will, was rubbing around in his head. It was like someone had removed his skull and was poking at his brain. That said, it wasn't necessarily nasty, though. Rather, soothing at that. Like bellyrubs. Bellyrubs were nice. Yes, even the great Lord O'Donnell had his sweet spots. Krystal noticed his comfort. The canine considered straightening his posture, trying to look a bit more like the infamous dog he's supposed to be, but realized it would be far beyond futile. Hell, he really was a wreck at this point. The vixen gestured at the bed. Slowly, Wolf nodded and limply walked his way over there, letting his body drop down on her bed. The fact that he still wasn't wearing anything but a pair of shorts made him feel a little ashamed and uncomfortable, yet Wolf got the feeling that the room's soothing atmosphere was actually there to negate that state of mind. It was working, at least. So, there he was, sitting on the bed.

"What do you remember?" she asked dryly.

His ears drooped. "Little." She didn't reply, instead simply nodding and waiting for him to continue. "Alright, fine..." He threw his head back and closed his eyes, opening his muzzle to speak.

* * *

_Four blaster pistols pointed at each other, their wielders gazes moving back and forth between the barrel of the opposing weapons and the eyes of the person holding it. Two of the weapons were legally authorized. The others were not._

_"What the heck do you guys want?"_

_"I could ask you the same, hairball," a sharp voice snapped back._

_Fox gritted his teeth and aimed his gun fervently at Leon, instinctively hoping to instill fear in the other, but since Leon did exactly the same with his own gun, they were at some kind of impasse. Falco and Panther were locked in a similar situation. They formed two imaginary lines, borders that would cause death by gunshot if crossed. In between those two lines lay a body. A pathetic heap of gray fur, mixed with more blood than could be healthy. A huge amount of small holes pocketed the unfortunate soul's jacket. What was underneath that jacket could not be seen from the outside, but even a school kid could say that it was not good because crimson liquid pooled all around it, staining the bright yellow sand. There was _so much blood_. An even greater wound covered the figure's right leg, just about around the knee. In between Fox, Falco, Leon and Panther lay the curled-up body of Wolf O'Donnell, leader of Star Wolf and owner of the Sargasso Space Zone._

_"Obviously we are here for Wolf. Now lower your guns, we don't want any trouble," a smooth, deep feline voice noted._

_"Nor do we," Fox replied smugly. Slowly and reluctantly he lowered his gun, carefully monitoring the two 'enemies' for any sign of hostility. None appeared, so eventually he holstered his blaster entirely. Falco gazed at him with wide eyes and shook his head. "I won't be responsible for your death, Fox..." he muttered, causing said vulpine to cast a sharp glare in the avian's direction. "Done," Fox snapped at the Star Wolf members._

_The other two loosened up as well after seeing this happen. They holstered their guns as well, and finally Falco followed their example. Panther dropped down on his knees and hovered his paws over Wolf's body, examining some of the wounds. Leon did so as well although he maintained some distance, especially from the Star Fox duo. "Damn, Wolf, you know how to get your ass whipped..." he helpfully added. Fox crossed his arms, staring at the body of his rival. Was Wolf really his rival, after saving his ass twice in a row? Fox was aware of the fact that Wolf had some kind of respect for him, but never thought that would happen. He was even about to throw their past away and make amends with the lupine. McCloud needed a friend, someone who knew stuff. Not implying that Star Fox was bad, at all. But sometimes he just wanted to get away from things. Wolf would be the perfect person, the one he'd turn to on such occasions._

_"How well is Sargasso equipped?"_

_"What?!" Leon practically shouted._

_"Medically," the vulpine shot back._

_Panther looked up, his face sour. "Not really. There are some med cabinets, but that's about it." Fox pondered that for a moment, while Panther peeked down at his leader again, poking at Wolf's throat with two fingers. "He still has a pulse..." Leon shook his head. "Don't get your hopes up, kitten... Wolf's done for." This comment caused the feline to just sit back and stare at Leon, a look on his face that conveyed an undescribable amount of hate. Fox never knew those guys on Star Wolf were close at all. Well, at least Panther, with the two others. Not Leon. Leon was a fucking psycho anyway. A good pilot, but a weird one._

_"Not if I can help it."_

_Falco's beak dropped, his eyes wide. Leon cocked his head, smugly staring at Fox. Panther's muzzle snapped up, his eyes twinkling. "Don't mess with me, Fox. I can't take that now."_

_Fox shrugged. "I was just offering. But if you don't want to-"_

_Panther suddenly shot up from the ground and pounced on Fox, causing the latter to emit a loud surprised yell. Falco unholstered his blaster in a lightning reflex, and ended up staring in disbelief at the duo on the sandy ground. Panther was actually giving Fox a big, loving hug, letting out several purrs in the process._

* * *

Wolf was leaning on Krystal's side again for support as they made their way over to the ship's bridge. The canine had told the vixen all he remembered, about the base that was being threatened, and the glass storm. Krystal had in turn explained how he had been found, and that he was pretty damn messed up when he was brought here. When Wolf had asked how she managed to pull him back from the brink of death, let alone remove all those glass shards from his flesh and heal the wounds afterwards, Krystal had simply shrugged and mildly replied, "It's what I do."

They reached a sliding double door. This one was slightly larger than the ones he had seen around the ship. "This is it," Krystal told him, that soft, soothing voice never leaving her. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, I think so. They're not throwing some kind of party, are they?"

"No. But Panther is probably very happy to see you. And... I don't think he wants me to say this, but Fox is too."

Wolf smiled at that. "Krystal."

"Yes, Wolf?"

"Thank you. For helping me."

She simply nodded, proceeding to slide her paw over the keypad. A soft beep echoed through the otherwise empty corridor as the doors slid open. Wolf had never actually been in the Great Fox's bridge before. While he should have expected what he saw, it still caught him off guard. Along the various glass windows were holographic control panels monitors displaying various aspects of the ship's status. There were too many panels and consoles the Star Fox team, comprised of five people, could manage on their own. That's where ROB came in. The robot never really wasted any time, except when Slippy had to recharge his battery packs. Rolling back and forth from console to console, tweaking drive settings and reporting anomalies, was all he did and all he was ever made for. It was a sight to see.

A few couches lined a nearby wall, facing a large window. Anyone sitting there would be able to stare into the endless voids of outer space. Peppy was doing exactly that. Wolf was not surprised. The old hare had done his fair share for the team, but he was getting old. Not that he'd ever mention that himself. Wolf respected Peppy, because the man had flown with the late James McCloud. O'Donnell could say the same for the rest of the team, anyway. He had a grudging respect for the whole thing, especially for Fox, but he would never willingly admit it.

"Look who I found."

Everybody in the room turned. Slippy dropped his wrench and turned around. Falco and Fox stopped their idle chatter and turned to face the source of the voice. Peppy got up from his couch and walked in their direction. Even ROB halted his frantic typing to turn his head (180 degrees, something an organic being could never accomplish) and identify those who had breached the perimeter.

Peppy observed the lupine from a distance. "How's your leg coming along?"

Wolf looked down at said leg and winced. It didn't look good at all, but he figured it would work out. Krystal would work her magic and then it'd be all fine and dandy. Like a fairy tale. "It's alright, thanks," he replied, though needless to say both parties knew he was lying. The hare decided to drop the subject. Wolf spotted Fox approaching him in the corner of his eye, and turned to face the vulpine. He knew that it displeased Fox in some weird way that Krystal was actually acting as support for him, but he wasn't really in any position to push her away and march down the hallway on his own. He could barely stand, even with her help, and that embarassed him.

Falco and Slippy were now approaching him as well, causing Krystal to interject. "Give him some breathing space, guys." The avian rolled his eyes and turned around, throwing his arms back and walking back to the console like he didn't give a damn anyway.

The geosensors in Wolf's brain notified him of the fact that the blue vixen was actually walking with a bit of a delay in between. He would be forced to go along. Krystal eventually stopped and pushed at his stomach, causing the lupine to flop down on a couch. Not the one Peppy had by now returned to. Wolf got the hint and just lay down on his back, using the armrest as cushion. Just a moment later he saw Slippy re-emerging from the bridge's entrance. Two others were with him. The sight of those two caused a smile to form on the weakened leader's muzzle; something that didn't happen quite often.

The green lizard stared back at him, dumbfounded. "Well, I'll be damned, Fox. Guess you finally did something right."

"Credit goes to Krystal, thank you." the vulpine replied, crossing his arms.

Panther idly walked over to Wolf's form and rubbed the side of the lupine's muzzle, causing him to growl in annoyance and happily rumble at the same time. The feline just leaned down and cooed at him, even giving him a lick on the nose.

"Ugh, thanks Panther, I'm happy to see you too," he muttered, using a paw to gently push the cat away. If it weren't for the Star Fox team being around, he wouldn't really have minded being given attention like that. It was kinda nice for once.

The remainder of the evening was rather eventless. Wolf had asked how long he had been out, whereto Falco had simply answered "two days". Apparently that meant Leon and Panther had been on the Great Fox all that time. That, in turn, implied Sargasso was now functioning without leader, since all three of them were gone. Silently he wondered how the space station would fare without that watchful eye that made sure nobody would piss off the wrong person and blow up the station in the process. He also wondered how the attack on the Katina supply base had ended. Leon had simply grinned. Words were not necessary. That wicked grin on the lizard's face was enough confirmation. It raised another question, though; Wolf wondered how many soldiers Leon had brutally cut open and mutilated afterwards.

At some point, the Star Wolf duo had left the bridge, probably to catch some sleep. Falco and Peppy were leaving as well. Slippy was about to follow them, but not before he had replaced ROB's battery packs. Fox sat down on the armrest of the couch Wolf was half-sleeping on; the one at his feet.

"You want to sleep here?"

Wolf simply flicked both of his ears and smiled, not bothering to form a verbal reply.

"You know... if you want to catch some shut-eye, just say so... I won't bother you."

Again, the lupine smiled, his bushy tail curling around his left leg.

"Alright... I'll take that as a no. I wanted to talk to you for a while now," Fox added.

"About what?" Wolf finally said, his deep voice filling the silence. Fox knew Krystal was watching them from a distance from the comfort of a chair, but decided not to mention it to either of them.

"You saved me. Twice. I mean, me personally, on Corneria, during the Aparoid Invasion. And after that you risked your whole team, your lives, to create a distraction for us so we could reach the Queen. Why?"

A few seconds of utter silence passed. The canine was about to form a response, but every time he came up with something he decided against it. After half a minute or so, he finally replied "It was either taking that risk or let the whole system get infected anyway." Krystal smiled and shook her head, but neither of the males saw it.

Fox stared at the floor, seemingly disappointed. "You didn't have to save me on Corneria. I just ..."

"Fox," Wolf interrupted, "I thought I have been painfully obvious about it all this time." The lupine breathed in deeply and made up his mind. He would have to get this out. "I don't hate you, Fox, I never have."

"Yet you tried to kill me several times before."

Wolf rolled his eyes. "That was because Andross was the highest payer at the time. I don't have a grudge against you, Fox. I like you. I just wish we hadn't been set up on the wrong foot like that. After the Lylat Wars I've never been in contact with that idiot again. I heard you had some fun encounters with him on Sauria a while ago, but that's all I know."

Fox opened his muzzle to speak, but Wolf raised his paw. "I don't really want to know either. The important part is that the mad doctor is gone. And I don't really need the paycheck right now either, because I'm in charge of Sargasso. We'll just steal anything we need."

This caused the orange vulpine to smile. "So, I take it we're good?"

"Yeah, we're good." Wolf held up a paw. Fox recognized the gesture and placed his own paw into the lupine's. O'Donnell squeezed, the flicker of a happy smile flashing across his face. Just like that, the two rivals were repairing their broken friendship.


End file.
